I am so proud to announce that my new release, Jude: The Fallen is now available!
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Let's take a moment and properly appreciate those feathers, shall we? |
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The Fallen Series continues with 'Jude', a
paranormal romance/urban fantasy that fans of the Black Dagger
Brotherhood will enjoy. When the big angel meets the intrepid
archaeologist, Coriander, more than just sparks fly. But even
struggling to get closer to the fiery redhead will be easy compared to
the danger that strikes at the heart of the angels. Will he be able to
overcome it? Or will he be forever...fallen?
EXCERPT
Jude followed behind Coriander, the
glow of her flashlight adding more light to their path as it mixed with the
interspersed torches on the walls. She ducked into a side alcove and pulled him
inside, her breath catching as the beam of the flashlight hit the edge of a
large object in the center of the room.
“Is that what I think it is?” he asked.
“Don’t tell me this creeps you out?”
she snorted as her eyes scanned the hieroglyphics on the walls. “But yes, this
is a tomb.”
“Wonderful. Anybody I know?” he
quipped.
“I don’t think so,” Coriander snapped.
“Unless you’re long lost pen pals with Setepenre.”
“Who?”
He heard the eye roll in her huff of
escaped breath as she examined the wall further. “Setepenre. One of Akhenaten’s
daughters, sister to Meketaten.” Coriander turned to face him. “She died before
her sister, so most likely we need to go further in.”
Jude glanced at the object. “And is
that, you know, her?” He gestured at
the sarcophagus.
“Doubtful,” she replied. “The body is
probably long gone, but yeah,” she squinted at the rectangular stone tomb,
“that looks like it could be hers.”
“Think there’s anything useful inside?”
Jude curled his hands on the edge of the sarcophagus, ready to push it open.
"Don't!" Coriander cried.
"Don't open it! You'll-"
"What?" he shot back,
crossing his arms over his chest. "Please don't tell me you were going to
use the word 'desecrate' in reference to me." The big angel smirked.
"Please."
Her face scrunched up, disgruntled.
"Fine. But can't you bless it first or something?"
"I'm not the Pope, Coriander.
Water is the extent of my purview." Jude glanced down at the hieroglyphics
carved into the lid. "And I don't think this chick is Catholic."
Ignoring the squeak of protest from Coriander, Jude pushed against the lid, and
it groaned with the friction of stone on stone as it moved.
“Jude,” she warned. “This is not a good
idea.”
He grunted and put his back into it,
shoving harder. “What do you mean? I thought this would be right up your
alley.” Sweat beaded on his forehead and he grinned at her. “Isn’t this what
you do?”
Her hands planted on her hips and she
frowned. “No!” she shouted. “I mean, yes, but not like this! You don’t know
what could happen when you touch-“
A louder creak of moving stone made her
head snap up and her face go white. Jude paid no attention to the fluttering of
her hands as she tried to stop him, and pushed the lid off the top by a few
inches, enough for a smattering of dust to waft up from the interior.
“Jude,” she said again, her voice more
insistent.
“Hang on, I’ve almost got it off.”
“Jude.”
“What?” he snapped, straightening.
“Oh, you idiot!” she cried, grabbing at
him and running for the opening, which was swiftly closing behind the
appearance of a hidden door.
Coriander pulled her fingers back just
in time before it shut with a loud thud, trapping them inside. She whirled
around on him with a murderous glare. “You feather-brained moron! Look what
you’ve done!”
He swallowed sheepishly. “Sorry.”
She closed her eyes for a second and
drew in a calming breath.
“I really am sorry.”
“I know. It’s fine,” she said, tapping
her finger on her cheek. “Give me a second. I need to think.”
The horror of the situation finally
dawned on him, and a tiny flutter of panic settled in his throat. Coriander, on
the other hand, had relaxed, all traces of her earlier ire gone, her features
set in concentration.
“Oh, God,” he groaned as his eyes
darted around the room. “Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit.”
“Unclench, sunshine.”
“We're trapped in a tomb, Coriander!
How can you be this calm?” Jude bellowed.
She gave him a bright smile and knelt
down, digging though her bag. “Happens to me all the time. No big deal, we'll
just...work around it. I'm sure you've been in worse scrapes before.” She waved
her hand, blowing him off. “Fiery demons and the whole twelve circles of hell
are a lot more complicated than the tomb of a lesser known Egyptian princess,
I'm sure.”
“Nine,” he frowned. “It's nine, and I
would rather be taking tea in any of them than sitting here on my ass while you
try to MacGyver us out of this with a roll of duct tape and some incense!” Jude
rubbed a defeated hand over his face and rolled his eyes skyward. “Why do you
do this to me?”
Coriander's bright smile widened.
“Because, big guy, some days you're the pigeon, and some days you're the
statue. And with a butt like that,” she said, smirking at his rear, “expect
some shit. Besides, I told you not to touch it.”